Broken Faith
by dwennie
Summary: Empty words and broken promises were turning into a pattern. 8 promises broken, 1 promise kept. Little bit of J/L. May Jello-forever Challenge entry, Prompt: Empty Promises. Oneshot!


**The idea jumped into my head when I saw the latest challenge, and I couldn't pass it up.**

**Warning: Spoilers for Blood Money and Red Badge. Not beta'd. Any mistakes are my own, and I apologize.  
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**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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Lisbon used to believe in promises. Long ago, when she was a little girl, she believed in pinkie swears, cross my heart, and I promise. Naïve, like all kids her age, she thought those words held some sort of special meaning. She thought that no one could break a promise. It was just one of those things that didn't happen.

She soon learned otherwise.

She was 4. Her mother, father, and younger brothers were watching Bambi for the first time.

Lisbon watched the film with stars in her eyes. She was just another child caught up in Disney's spell. Bambi, his mother, and Thumper had instantly captivated her heart, and all of a sudden she believed that the woods a block from her house were home to peaceful families of talking rabbits, deer, owls, and possums. They were there, just waiting for her to find them.

She snuggled into her mother's lap, happily planning a family trip into the woods for the next day. She watched, enchanted, as fall turned to winter in the glen. She laughed when Bambi tried to skate.

The magic screeched to a halt when the hunter shot Bambi's mom.

Terrified, young Teresa buried her face in her mother's shoulder. As her dear mother stroked her hair soothingly, she asked, barely audible, "You won't ever go, will you mommy?"

"I'll always look after you, Teresa, long after you need me to. I promise. I love you, sweetness."

"I love you too, mommy," she murmured, nestling safely into her mother's embrace to watch the rest of the movie.

She had promised. 8 years later, a drunk driver had ripped her from Lisbon's life, and all she could remember was that promise. She hadn't meant to, but she had broken it.

This time she was 6, playing with her father before her mother's death. It still hurt to remember the man he had once been, caring, kind, the man who always put his family first.

They had been playing pretend. Lisbon, the princess locked in the tower, was awaiting her brave father's rescue. She sat, on top of her dresser, giggling with happiness while her father held countless fake battles to rescue his little girl.

"Save me, daddy! Save me!" she laughed with joy, watching her dad swing his imaginary sword about.

"I'll save you, my dear Teresa!" he cried, scooping her up off the dresser and swinging her in circles above his head, smiling and laughing the way a father only could with his daughter.

He put her down, knelt down to eye level, and said seriously, "I will, Teresa. I promise you, I'll always be there to save you. Remember that."

"Thank you, daddy," she whispered, wrapping her tiny arms around him.

She had been too young then to fully understand what he meant, but Lisbon never forgot those words. Never. Once her mother died, she had expected him to be there for her and her brothers. And that made his abuse even harder for her to take, because all she heard while she endured blow after blow was that one promise he made years ago. His yells of fury would have been less painful.

Another promise, broken.

When her mother had died when she was 12, her father had been there for a short while.

At her funeral, they all cried but him. He stayed strong for them, solemnly accepting condolences, never shedding a single tear.

He put his hands on their shoulders and promised solemnly, "We'll be alright. We'll always have each other. Always."

He had almost kept his promise. He managed for all of 2 months before he turned to alcohol for help. They say drunks are the most honest, and that made his harsh words hurt more. One day, not even the yelling could fix his anger anymore. One day, he turned to violence too. Those were the days when he drank so much he wouldn't remember anything the next morning.

Just under 4 years later, on her 16th birthday, Lisbon came home to find her father hanging from a rope in the living room. He left two words.

_I'm sorry._

Because that'll make _everything_ better.

One week after his funeral, her and her brothers made a pact to stick together.

She kept her end of the bargain. Lisbon had worked her ass off to make sure they were fed, clothed and educated. And one by one, they had left. As soon as they were old enough to fend for themselves, they were gone. She couldn't blame them, but that didn't make it hurt less. She couldn't shake the feeling that she just wasn't good enough.

The only family she had left her, one by one.

She still loved them, of course. Once she had gotten her life back on track, Lisbon had made her peace with her brothers and their situation. The resentment was still there, but she had learned to accept it and move on. Most of the time.

She just wished that she could have had some help supporting their family.

It was no wonder they hardly ever spoke now.

She first had a boyfriend at age 22. She simply hadn't had the time of motivation to look for one before, but now Lisbon decided she might as well give it a whirl. See what all the fuss was about, and maybe fall in love herself.

It occurred to her that she may watch too many romantic movies.

At first, everything seemed like a dream. Lisbon was falling hard for Dave, and he showered her with attention and love.

He promised her that she was the only one for him.

Lisbon was so in love that she ignored her instinctive warnings against trusting him. She forgot about all the broken promises of her past and threw herself into their relationship.

When she walked into their apartment one day and found him in bed with his secretary, she threw him out. She ignored his phone calls, messages, and the flowers he sent.

She was starting to see a pattern in these so-called promises.

With Dave gone, Lisbon locked her heart away in a safe place and submerged herself into the only thing she had left, her job.

She graduated the police academy with flying colours, and before she knew it she had landed her first job at the SFPD, working under Sam Bosco. She noticed the way he looked at her when they first met, but hoped he wouldn't act on that look. He was married after all.

"Welcome to the SFPD, Agent Lisbon. I'm the SAC Sam Bosco, and I'll make sure me and my team are good mentors."

She smiled at him, her eyes betraying her instinctive disbelief. Bosco noticed right away.

"Really, Lisbon."

For years, he kept his promise. Lisbon was growing as an Agent and as a person under Bosco's supervision, and he was becoming something of a friend and confidante to her.

Lisbon had just started to believe him when he shattered about 50 of the handbook's rules at once to catch a murderer. She was the only witness, and she couldn't bring herself to turn him in or report him. She agreed to falsify the report, and the incident was forgiven.

She forgave him, but never forgot.

Eventually, Lisbon transferred to the CBI, and she flew through the rankings, quickly securing her own team with Minnelli as her boss.

He grew into the father figure she had been missing for so long in her life. She trusted him, he trusted her, and she could always rely on him for help when the going got tough.

On Jane's first day, he called her into his office.

"Lisbon, we're assigning a consultant to your team. Here's his file, he'll be here at lunch."

She had eyed her boss questioningly. "Why do we need him?"

"He's worked with the bureau before, and he closes cases like a fiend. He's a lot to handle, but you and your team will be fine. Trust me, Lisbon," he said sternly, noticing her hesitation.

She wished she could.

Not 2 weeks into Jane's arrival, one of her team members transferred out, leaving no explanation. A week later, her bulletproof case had fallen apart because of Jane's tricks. After 2 yelling matches, one between her and Jane, the other with her and Minnelli, Lisbon remembered her boss' words.

Empty words and broken promises were turning into a pattern.

When Lisbon had been accused of killing McTeer, she had expected Bosco and Minnelli to have her back. After all she had done for them, especially Bosco, she had been sure they would have vouched for her.

Bosco had said he'd make up for the risk she took, helping him 7 years ago. If there was a time where she needed his help, this was it. Too bad she never got it.

She thought she knew them, and they knew her.

Apparently not. What had shocked her the most was that the one person who supported her through the entire exhausting and stressful ordeal was Jane, the consultant she had been sure she hated.

Now, she wasn't so sure. He'd been there during some of her darkest moments, and she was more grateful than he'd ever know.

She was learning to trust him, and it scared the hell out of her.

Now she was tied to a pole in a room in the middle of nowhere, Red John looming over her, clutching a knife. She was a bloody and bruised mess, but she could tell none of her injuries were life-threatening.

_Not yet at least._

No doubt it was just another one of his twisted games.

Red John smiled wickedly, malice dripping out of his pores. "Well, Teresa, not so strong now. The mighty Agent Lisbon, defenceless. I do hope Mr. Jane is the first to find you. He should arrive just after I'm done with you."

Unbidden, her memory took her back to when they had been stuck in the crate together. Jane's words floated back now.

"_You know I'm always going to save you Lisbon, whether you like it or not."_

The last promise he'd made to her. She should have known better than to believe it.

Red John came slowly towards her and caressed the side of her neck with his knife. "You don't have long left, Teresa. Do you have anything left to say?"

Sprawled on the ground, helpless and full of pain, Lisbon almost thought what she saw next was a hallucination. The door sprang open with an almighty crash, and Patrick Jane himself was sprinting in, absolutely livid. Pointing a gun straight at Red John. As if in slow motion, Red John lunged towards her, knife raised. Three shots rang out, and Red John dropped to the floor. Jane stood stock still, holding the smoking gun. Suddenly coming to his senses, he threw the gun aside and raced to Lisbon's side.

"Lisbon, Lisbon. Thank God," he murmured into her hair, untying her and holding her almost painfully close.

"Jane," she breathed, her eyes starting to flutter shut.

He gathered her up carefully and hugged her to his chest, as of reaffirming himself that she was indeed alive. "I've got you. You're alright."

He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then an even more gentle one to her lips. A smile slipped onto her face as drifted off to sleep, safe in Jane's arms.

Her last thought before losing consciousness was that he had kept his promise.

Maybe it was okay to trust after all.

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**Fin.**

**I hope you liked it. Let me know?**

**Jenn :)  
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